The Legacy

by Carol Ashby

  He rose and kissed her forehead. Then he turned and fixed his eyes on Miriam. No doubt she understood his unspoken command to take good care of her mistress, and she nodded in reply.

  “Go tell Nestor to get my horse ready.” She headed toward the kitchen to carry out his command.

  Titus tossed down one last mouthful of watered wine before he stepped into the courtyard. It would be good to have a night with friends without worrying about Claudia. Miriam would watch over her.

  Mistress Claudia’s scream jerked Miriam awake. She rolled off her pallet, rose to her feet, and ran as fast as her ankle would allow to her mistress’s bedside. Claudia was sitting bolt upright on the bed. Stark terror filled her eyes as she clutched the sheet to her breast.

  Miriam stood beside her and grasped her hands to stop them twisting the sheets.

  “Mistress. What’s wrong?”

  The mistress’s eyes were staring off into the distance, as if she didn’t even realize Miriam was talking to her. Miriam climbed onto the bed and knelt next to the terrified girl. She wrapped her arms around her and drew her against her breast before resting her hand on Mistress Claudia’s head and gently pulling it down onto her own shoulder. God, please help her. Please stop these dreams and bring peace to her heart.

  “It’s all right, mistress. I’m here now, and nothing’s going to hurt you.”

  Mistress Claudia startled and pulled away. Her eyes pulsed with pain, like a wounded animal. Then she let Miriam guide her head back onto her shoulder. Deep, racking sobs shook her whole body. Miriam began to rock her, just as she would a child. For too long, they remained like that.

  “Please, mistress. Tell me your nightmare. Don’t hold it inside. Telling me will help.”

  The mistress nodded, but the small jerks of half-suppressed sobs continued. Miriam kept the mistress wrapped in her arms, rocking her slowly. After releasing a shuddering breath, Mistress Claudia turned her eyes toward Miriam’s.

  “I never liked the games, but Lucius made me go with him once. He said it was something all Romans should do, and he wasn’t going to let me be such a soft-hearted fool. I saw them turn the lions on some slaves who had run away. They were running and screaming as the lions jumped on them. They kept twisting and clawing at the ground trying to get free, and then the lions were ripping them apart. I can still hear their screams and see the blood. Lucius sent our father into the arena to die like that.”

  Anguish beyond measure filled her eyes. Miriam pushed a strand of hair behind Mistress Claudia’s ear and laid her hand on her cheek.

  “But that’s not how it was, mistress. He would have stood or knelt with his arms raised in worship and faced the lions without fear. He died willingly, with praises and songs to his Lord Jesus, not screams. Now he’s in heaven with Jesus, and he has no regrets about his choice. He wouldn’t want you to grieve so deeply for him.”

  Mistress Claudia’s head snapped back. “How can you be so sure that’s how it was?”

  Miriam began stroking her hair. “Because that’s how Christians die, mistress. I’ve seen it myself.” She blinked hard to push back her own tears as she saw once more the glowing smile on Master Alexander’s face just before he was beheaded at the monument to Caesar.

  “You’ve seen it? More than once?”

  “Yes, mistress.” Too many times more as Master Alexander, the mistress, their children, and each of the free servants were beheaded.

  “So, he didn’t die like those slaves?”

  “No, mistress.”

  Mistress Claudia laid her head back on Miriam’s shoulder. “I can see Father doing that. So that’s how Christians die?”

  Miriam rested her cheek on the mistress’s hair and whispered, “Yes, mistress. That’s how Christians die.”

  If she hadn’t been a slave, she would have died that way along with the rest of Master Alexander’s household. Her heart had shattered into a thousand pieces as she watched them all die while she still lived. She’d wanted to die with those she loved, but now she was glad she’d been sold and brought to Thracia where Christians were still allowed. God must have spared her for the mistress’s sake.

  Mistress Claudia nestled quietly in her arms. There were still a few tears, but the jerks were gone. Miriam closed her eyes and continued to pray for this broken heart to heal and to learn to love Jesus, just as her father had.

  Titus had thoroughly enjoyed his late evening of talking and drinking with his fellow officers. It was his first since Claudia came, and he’d missed their company. He was just riding through the gate when he heard Claudia’s sobs coming from her bedchamber window.

  His jaw clenched. Getting drunk with friends wasn’t worth the risk of her suicide. Miriam would try, but what if she couldn’t stop her? Claudia was still struggling to live with what had happened to their father, and even Philip had barely prevented her from killing herself twice on the voyage from Rome. She’d seemed to be doing much better with Miriam here, and he’d thought it was safe to leave her. It was clear he’d been wrong.

  As he rode by the house, the sobs stopped and he heard muffled voices. When he dismounted by the kitchen, he paused to listen. Claudia refused to tell him about the dreams, but maybe she was telling Miriam. He strained to hear what Claudia was saying, but he couldn’t make out the words. Claudia’s voice, Miriam’s voice, some back and forth between them, and then silence.

  He trotted through the kitchen and bounded up the stairs toward Claudia’s bedchamber, but he stopped in the doorway and stared. What he saw stunned him. Claudia was cradled in Miriam’s arms with her eyes closed and the trace of a smile on her lips. She looked more peaceful than he’d ever seen since she came from Rome. Miriam acknowledged his presence with a slight smile, but she continued to rock his sister. He nodded his approval and stepped back from the doorway. Claudia didn’t need him with Miriam there.

  He shook his head as he headed to his room. He had no idea what Miriam had just done, but it had calmed Claudia when everything he tried failed miserably. She’d told him in the market that she could help his sister’s broken heart heal, and it looked like she was right. That day, he thought he’d paid more than she was worth, but he’d found a true bargain after all.

  Chapter 53: More Music in the House

  Titus had a beast of a headache from the night before as he descended the stairs and headed into the kitchen. He’d drunk more than he intended, and he was paying for it. Still, he was eager to know exactly what had happened last night with Claudia.

  Miriam already had his breakfast of fruit and bread waiting on a tray. She was standing at the counter with her back to him, kneading the bread dough and singing to herself. He never understood the words of her songs. She was a Jew, so they must be Aramaic or something.

  He sat at the table and began eating some of the grapes as he watched her kneading and singing, totally oblivious to his presence. He could see why Claudia liked having her around. There was a cheerful air about her that must lift Claudia’s spirits. He had to admit she had the same effect on him.

  When she finally turned, she startled.

  “I’m sorry, master. I didn’t hear you call.” She limped to the table and picked up the tray. “Shall I carry it to the dining room for you now?”

  “No, I’ll eat it here. I have a question for you about last night.”

  “Yes, master?”

  “What got Claudia so upset and what did you do that calmed her?”

  Miriam set the tray back in front of him and took two steps back before she answered.

  “She had a nightmare about your father’s death.”

  “She has those every night, but she won’t tell me what she dreams. She avoids answering all my questions, but if I don’t know, I can’t help her. Did she tell you?”

  “Yes, master.” She tensed, and that drew his frown.

  “Well, what did she say?” Irritation sharpened his voice.

  She seemed to be trying
to avoid answering. Having such a bad headache did nothing to improve his patience.

  “If my mistress doesn’t want to tell you, I’m not sure I should, master.”

  She took two more steps back, which got her out of striking range. That irritated him more. What kind of man did she think he was?

  “Come back here. I told you before that I’m not going to hit you, and you should stop acting like you think I’m going to. I don’t treat slaves that way. My father always disapproved of that, and so do I.”

  “Yes, master.”

  She came back to the table and froze before him, not looking at his eyes.

  “Now, tell me what makes Claudia so frightened at night. You don’t have to tell me exactly what she said if you think she wouldn’t want you to.”

  Her head tipped and she lowered her chin. Then she raised her eyes to look into his. “Your brother made her watch lions kill runaway slaves, and she thought that was how your father died.”

  “What did you say that calmed her so quickly?”

  “I told her how her father really died.”

  His eyebrows dipped. “That is how he died.”

  “No, master. My mistress told me your father was killed for being a Christian. He would have died like one.”

  “And just telling her that calmed her?”

  He was incredulous. As far as he could tell, all men died the same.

  “Yes, master.”

  He frowned and shook his head. That made absolutely no sense, but if it worked to calm Claudia, that was good enough for him. His head hurt too much to think about it anymore.

  He waved his hand toward the counter. “You can go back to your dough, now.”

  “Yes, master.”

  She returned to kneading the dough, but she didn’t resume singing. As he sat watching her while he finished the last of his breakfast, he was sorry she didn’t. She had a beautiful voice.

  Claudia loved music, and Father always kept at least one slave who was a musician. Maybe it was partly the singing that was making her more cheerful. If he could get more music into the house, that would almost certainly be helpful.

  “Miriam.”

  She turned from the dough to face him. “Yes, master?”

  She pushed a loose strand of hair back from her forehead, leaving a dusting of flour in her dark brown hair.

  “Is it true that you can play the lyre and flute?” Since the slave trader had passed off a cripple as an able-bodied slave, Titus didn’t trust anything he’d said about her.

  “Yes, master. My last master had me trained since it was something I could do for him that didn’t need two good legs.”

  “Then I’ll add that to your duties. Claudia loves music, and it should cheer her to have it every evening.”

  His eyebrow rose. A musician, too. She would still have been a bargain at four times what he paid for her.

  “I’ll find out where I can buy instruments and take you there to pick out what you’ll play. I know nothing about lyres or flutes.” He popped the last bite of bread into his mouth.

  Take her there. Miriam didn’t like the sound of that. She hadn’t seen any instrument sellers in the market where she bought their food, so it would have to be beyond walking distance.

  “Will we take the donkey cart?”

  The master rolled his eyes. “Of course not. We’ll ride. You’re light enough that my horse carries us both easily.” He ate the last of his grapes and rose to leave. “Plan your work tomorrow around us going in the morning.”

  She watched him walk out the kitchen door and head to the stables. Then she blew out her breath between pursed lips. Riding with him again and who knew how far they would have to go. But getting the instruments would give her one more way to help Mistress Claudia, and that would be worth any price, even being held so close to the master as they rode.

  As Miriam helped her get ready for bed, Claudia found herself looking forward to a good night’s sleep. She still missed her father terribly, but when she thought of his death, she pictured him just as Miriam had described, smiling and singing as he worshiped the God he loved and dying quickly without fear and unbearable pain. No roars and screams and blood would haunt her again.

  The next morning, Miriam chewed her lip as she stood waiting for Master Titus to bring his horse from the stable. Mistress Claudia had been so excited about getting her instruments today that the master had decided to go immediately after breakfast. He’d arranged to be off duty all morning to have plenty of time for their excursion. The instrument maker’s workshop was some distance west of the city, so it would be the longest ride she’d had to make with him yet.

  Mistress Claudia stood facing Miriam. As the master was leading his horse over, she grasped Miriam’s hand, and an excited smile brightened her whole face.

  “Just think. Tonight I’ll get to listen to lyre music again. There’s almost nothing I love listening to more.”

  Miriam’s smile mirrored the mistress’s. “I hope I’ll play well enough to please you, mistress.”

  “Everything you do for me is done well. I’m so glad Titus bought you.”

  Titus laid his hand on Miriam’s shoulder. She spun to face him as he stood close behind her. She barely came up to his chin, so she had to tip her head way back to look at his face.

  “Up you go.” He placed his hands on her waist and lifted her onto the horse’s back. After she swung her leg over and slid forward, he mounted behind her and pulled her close as he settled in.

  “We’ll be back as soon as we can.” He turned his horse and nudged him into a quick walk. Claudia waved at them until they disappeared through the gate.

  As they started down the main road toward the edge of the city, Titus looked down at the small woman held close against him by his left arm. The night before last, she’d calmed Claudia’s night terrors when he’d failed miserably. This morning, she had his sister smiling as if she were a child about to celebrate her birthday. So far, she truly had been what his sister needed.

  Funny how she’d known that even before she met Claudia. To think he’d almost walked past her in the slave market. If she hadn’t touched his arm and said his sister needed her, he would never have noticed her. He would have missed out on the best purchase he’d ever made.

  It was odd, but Miriam didn’t feel as threatened by his arm around her as she had on their previous rides. It was probably because she knew him better. He really did love his sister, and he really had bought her to serve Mistress Claudia. That was why God had brought him to the slave market―so he could buy her before the brothel did and she could help the mistress’s heart heal. God was answering her prayers for her mistress already.

  They rode in silence for several minutes. Then the master moved his arm and placed his hand on his own thigh. Her back still rested against his chest, and she knew better than to try to move away from him after the last scold, but at least his arm wasn’t around her. She didn’t like that, even if it was only for her safety.

  “I heard this craftsman makes beautiful lyres, but he always has flutes in stock as well. We should be able to get everything we need from him.”

  “We’ll need to get spare strings as well, master, to avoid another trip. Strings break fairly often. We’ll also need to pick a lyre that’s easy to restring and tune.”

  “I’m glad the trader didn’t lie about you being a musician. I’m planning to have you play and then pick something that’s not too expensive but still sounds good. Maybe you can bargain for a lower price, too. Nestor said you do that well in the market. I don’t know any more about buying lyres than I did about buying house slaves. I got a good deal on you, but I’m making you responsible for getting a good deal on the instruments today.”

  He looked down at her and smiled.

  Miriam tried not to blush, but she couldn’t quite stop it. She avoided looking into his eyes when he praised her, but it pleased her to know he’d gone from regretting
how much he paid for her to thinking she was a good deal, even with her bad ankle.

  “I’ve never done that before, but I’ll try if that’s what you want me to do.”

  He chuckled. “Did you know that’s what you always say? Time for something else you’ve never done before.” He wrapped his arm tightly around her ribcage and kicked his horse into a canter.

  Her eyes widened, and she tensed as the horse gained speed. Then she relaxed as she got used to it.

  As they approached the lyre-maker’s shop, the master slowed his stallion to a walk. Miriam was almost sorry they were there. It was exhilarating to travel so fast with the wind blowing in her face and the scenery flying by. So much so that she’d forgotten about him holding her so closely and simply enjoyed the ride. After he dismounted, she waited until he lifted her down and set her carefully on her feet.

  “Let’s go see if you can get me that bargain.”

  She drew a deep breath. “I’ll try, master.”

  He turned and walked into the workshop with her a few feet behind him.

  The lyre maker’s eyebrows rose as two people entered his shop. A Roman officer with a crippled slave girl in tow? That was a first.

  “Welcome. How may I help you today, noble sir?”

  The tribune turned toward the girl and motioned her forward. “I have a musician here who needs to pick out a lyre and a flute. I leave the shopping to her.”

  Such a young woman being given the responsibility of choosing? The merchant tried to keep his smile from revealing too much. Here was a chance for an easy profit. The officer clearly knew nothing, and a slave girl wouldn’t know a good deal from a bad one. Or care, for that matter.

  He directed a patronizing smile at the girl and waved his arm toward an array of lyres. “Play any you wish and choose. Then we can discuss price.”

  “If you please, I would like to know the starting price for each before I play. Then if I find one that will suit my master’s taste, we can discuss the real price.”